Fate is a Naughty Witch
by Savva
Summary: The wizard made a final step towards the young witch and covered her little hand on his chest with his, while whispering huskily, "Let me help you with this, witch." Seduction at its finest. Sirius/Hermione. Romance/Humour.AU.Post-Hogwarts
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, J. K. Rowling does. In addition, I do not make any profit from this fanfiction. Huge thank you to Glorioux – my good friend, amazing author and brilliant beta, as well as to my new beta – Lima Bean. Thank you

_**Older Men Do it Better Series – **__**Sirius**_

_**Fate is a Naughty Witch, Part One**_

Sirius Black was walking down Diagon Alley. A toothy, smug smile played on his sensuous lips, making his tanned and ruggedly handsome face irresistible. The young witches in their light summer robes were fluttering around him like butterflies. Their intriguing giggles and playful winks had made him feel young and wanted.

_Oh, yes, he was wanted_, smirked the wizard to himself. All these yummy little morsels had hot dreams about him. Of that, our lover boy was certain. He was one of the most desirable bachelors in Britain's Wizarding community. His photos appeared in the Wizarding press as often as Harry's did, maybe even more often, taking into consideration that one clever, blond-haired witch had already snatched the Chosen One from the bachelor list.

Sirius, however, was still very much free and available, not at all in a hurry to pop questions or tie knots. Rich, famous, handsome, with a deliciously tormented past and with an equally delicious bright future – the most desirable bachelor indeed. Girls loved his image as a hero with a tortured past. Moreover, his reputation was preceding him that he was the consummate lover. Witches simply did not have a chance – there was nowhere to hide from Sirius' wicked charms. And did they even think of hiding? Nope, they were irresistibly drawn to him. He could have any girl he wanted. Any...

Well, almost any. There was a certain curly-haired one who didn't join the common enthusiasm about him. _Damn! _frowned thetormented hero. _Nah, she secretly wanted him too. She was just keeping her promise to the ginger boy, _explained Sirius to himself.

At this moment the tastiest little witch slowly walked past him, invitingly swaying her hips. The little minx turned her pretty face toward Sirius and gave him a promising wink, with her plump, juicy lips pouted adorably. All kinds of possible uses for those rosy lips streamed into Sirius head, and he growled in anticipation. _Life is good! _The wizard declared to himself once again and turned to follow the little witch.

However, the moment Sirius made his first step towards that fluffy kitten, he heard a loud bang, a shriek, a shout, and a thud. The sounds were coming from the building in front of which Sirius had been standing. Frankly, he knew quite well who lived in there. The cacophony of sounds rolled closer and grew louder, until the door of the building was thrown open and the famous ginger boy, who also was known as Ronald Weasley, flew face-first onto the pavement.

Ronald didn't have a chance to even raise his head before he was covered with a motley pile of clothes. Quidditch equipment and other stuff was following him down the stairs, causing all the racket. The poor red-haired wizard finally composed himself enough to get on all four of his limbs. Groaning, he began to gather his belongings from the ground, not noticing Sirius and a small group of curious bystanders who had been watching the scandal unfold.

When Ron eventually managed to pick up almost everything and stood up ready to leave, the window on the third floor of the house had opened with an angry snap and curly-haired witch shouted into his back, "Don't forget your bloody men's magazines and other shit, Ronald Weasley. And don't you ever, do you hear me, ever dare to come near me again unless you want to be cursed into the next century, arse!"

With that, the box full of magazines was shoved from the window, aimed at the head of the unfortunate wizard, who moved skittishly, trying his best to dodge the box and not be squished by it. After the box had landed on the street with a sickeningly loud crack, Ron tilted his face up and pleadingly mumbled, "Hermione, please, give me another chance. I will never do that again. I promise. Please, baby, may I come back? I don't want to live with mum." The next instant a mild Stinging Hex was sent in Ronald Weasley's direction from the window. He squealed like a piglet, hurriedly picked up what he could and disappeared. The window on the third floor was slammed shut with extreme vengeance.

Sirius had been watching the whole scene in amazement. Two minutes into the drama, a mischievous grin had formed on his lips. He liked where all this scandal was going. While Sirius didn't have anything against Ron personally, he had fancied the boy's witch for a long time. He had doted on her the moment she had released him from the Veil four years ago. Hermione had been the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, and she was mesmerizing. Truly, to Sirius she looked like a goddess. Her chocolate eyes were lit with the stubborn determination. Her chestnut locks curled wildly around her face, and the strength of her magic had forced the air to crackle with electric discharges. Sirius had fallen for the witch right there and then.

Those deep feelings for Hermione Granger had not stopped our famous Sirius Black from exploring other options and living his life to the full, chasing every ruffled skirt and every pair of thin ankles, and every pert bottom, in vicinity. But he was truly compelled to behave this way. After all, he just had to hide his true feelings towards the curly-haired witch, even if only for his godson's sake. Then again, the wizard had to maintain his reputation. Now, watching the drama unfolding in front of his eyes, Sirius Black knew instantly that fate had granted him one of her wicked smiles, and so he stood there and waited for the end of this spectacle.

After the ginger boy's hectic disappearance, the loud sound of the window closing forced Sirius to look up again, and he noticed that something red and lacy was slowly floating down towards him. For such an experienced wizard, a quick glance was sufficient to identify the flying object – it was a lacy, red bra. The piece of lingerie was circling languidly, gliding through the warm air. At last, the gravity did its job, and the red garment finally landed right in Sirius' hands.

It was obvious for the lucky wizard that this little piece of lace, which had already made Sirius' oversexed mind fantasize about its owner, had escaped from the flat on the third floor during the angry fit of throwing things out of the window. _Aye, _thought Sirius_. _The naughty witch named Fatehad justgiven him the opportunity, opened the door for him, and he would be damned if he did not use it. Gently folding the delicate brassiere with the nicely sized cups in his pocket, Sirius smiled crookedly, gave a mock salute to imaginary Fate_._ Whistling something extremely enthusiastic, he entered the building through the same door from which a short while before Ronald Weasley had been thrown out. Being in excellent physical shape from activities with all those witches, it took Sirius only a minutes to reach the third floor. He knew the flat since Harry and he had visited the witch quite a few times over the years. The door was ajar, and Sirius slid in, at the same time calling out to Hermione in his most seductive voice.

Evidently, it was a monumental mistake to enter the den of an angry lioness uninvited. He hadn't even managed to pronounce the last 'e' of the witch's name before the powerful Hex, accompanied by a loud, "I told you not to come near me, Ronald Weasley!" hit him squarely in the chest. The strong blow forced him into the opposite wall with a resounding crack, simultaneously knocking the breath out of him.

_Fucking naughty bitch Fate and her jokes_, the wizard swore mentally, and the next instant he heard a terrified Hermione's shout, "Oh my god, Sirius, it's you! I am sorry. I thought, oh god, I thought it was Ron! Are you all right?"

"I am fine princess, I am fine. Are _you_ all right, Hermione?" the wizard murmured huskily, when the breath returned to him. "I saw your little skirmish with Ron," Sirius continued, scraping himself off the wall to which he had been nailed by the Hex.

The young witch replied, watching Sirius carefully with evident concern in her chocolate eyes, "Ah, you saw that. Nothing new, really, I should have done it long ago – he's a cheating arse and a cad, nothing more." As she sighed and bit her lower lip, her eyes became somewhat shimmery. In a minute, however, her concerned gaze returned to the wizard she had just hexed. "Sirius, I am not sure that you are fine. Do you feel anything unusual? It was a pretty nasty Itching Hex."

Yup, right after the witch's words, an awful sensation of something crawling slowly under his skin where the Hex had hit him made itself known. For the briefest while, Sirius tried to ignore it. He wasn't going to make a fuss about some silly itching issue. He was a grown up wizard, the modern symbol of masculinity, an icon. And icons do not scratch their chests when witches are present. He smiled to Hermione nonchalantly, "Nah, princess, nothing to worry ab-"

He didn't finish his sentence, however, because suddenly the burning and itching wave covered him up to his gills. He couldn't focus anymore, at least not enough to speak. The only thing on Sirius' mind was to rip off his shirt and scratch incessantly until this horrible, unbearable itching would stop.

"Oh, shit," he managed to moan, trying to scratch his chest and still maintain some degree of his dignity.

The brilliant girl in front of him immediately understood the wizard's predicament and applied a Cooling Charm to his chest. Sirius, welcoming the momentary relief, and knowing that it would not last, groaned, "Do you know the counter-curse to that?"

Hermione quickly shook her head, "There is none. You either have to take the brunt of it, or... Wait a minute, there is one thing. Stay here, I'll be right back."

The girl almost took off, but Sirius quickly caught her hand, "Where are you going?"

"To the apothecary. They have a remedy for that; I saw it once there. Wait here, Sirius," and before he could protest, the witch disappeared. Being alone, Sirius quickly shrugged his shirt off and began vigorously scratch his itching and burning chest, reapplying the Cooling Charm every other minute. Thank Merlin that Hermione returned quickly. After five minutes of constant scratching and grating, Sirius' chest was not looking fabulous at all. Raw red marks streaked it, doing nothing for the wizard's sex appeal. By the time the witch reappeared with a soft pop, Sirius was at his wit's end. The Cooling Charms had stopped bringing him relief, and all that excoriation was making him feel even worse.

"Here, try this," breathed the witch, before she noticed that Sirius stood there topless. Even in his rather uncomfortable state, the wizard had noticed that the sight of his bare chest, despite being scratched raw, made the girl blush. Sirius couldn't stop himself from coming teasingly close to the laboriously breathing Hermione. He took the little glass vial from her hand, opened it, and remained standing rather dangerously close to her. The itching be damned, the wizard was on the seduction mission now. He began slowly, sensually spread the mint-smelling salve over his burning, red skin.

When, however, after a few minutes of spreading, nothing happened and the wave of itching returned with renewed strength, Sirius muttered, "It doesn't seem to work, princess. Looks as I will have to wait it out after all." He turned from her, looking around, trying to find his shirt, in order to leave.

Hermione stood there in confusion, "But they said it would help. I don't understand. Let me read the instruction. Maybe you did something wrong."

Sirius rolled his eyes and gave her the vial, "It is a salve, Hermione. What is there to read, girl?" She didn't listen to him, though. The little witch was carefully reading the instructions. Her reaction, when she finished reading them, surprised Sirius. Hermione blushed even brighter than she already was, and mumbled, "Oh, god," under her breath. Intrigued, he snatched the vial from her hands and read the instructions himself.

Even the intense burning and itching could not stop the wide smile from appearing on the wizard's face. "So, the thing will work only if the Hex caster applies it? Hmm, interesting. Will you, please, princess? I am truly dying here," he almost purred, suggestively rubbing his bare chest. The smile on Sirius' face became simply dazzling and his eyes were full of mischievous charm.

Hermione Granger, being a responsible witch, was determined to deal with the consequences of her actions. So, she drew a deep, calming breath, took the vial from Sirius' hands, dipped her little fingers inside and scooped a considerable amount of salve. Next, she bravely stepped closer to Sirius, bit her lower lip even harder and with slightly trembling fingers lightly touched his chest. Then, in a steady, circling motion, she began to massage the ointment into his chest.

In a matter of seconds, the mischievous smile was gone, and Sirius', suddenly devilishly dark and intense, locked his grey eyes on Hermione's cautious gaze. The wizard made a final step towards the young witch. Their thighs were touching as he covered her little hand on his chest with his, while whispering huskily, "Let me help you with this, witch."

_**This little one here will be completed in two parts. Please review, my darlings. Thank you.**_

**_I am going to add a few other older wizards to the series – Lucius, Remus, Severus and even Xeno Lovegood._**


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters, J. K. Rowling does. In addition, I do not make any profit from this fanfiction. Huge thank you to Glorioux – my good friend, amazing author and brilliant beta. Thank you

_**Older Men Do it Better Series – **__**Sirius**_

**_Fate is a Naughty Witch, Part Two_**

_"Let me help you with this, witch."_

Sirius felt how Hermione's little hand trembled slightly under his palm. Together, with his hand over hers, they continued to apply the salve over his chest. With their dual efforts, the itching and burning had finally abated, giving way to other urgent yearnings and desires. For the whole time it took to fully spread the salve, Sirius' eyes didn't leave Hermione's even for a moment. The wizard was quickly becoming addicted to the warm, velvety depth of her doe gaze. Its deepness was intoxicating. Those chocolate eyes, so enticingly adorned with curly eyelashes, just begged to be kissed.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Sirius pressed the witch's little palm even tighter to his chest to still their movements, circled his other hand around Hermione's waist firmly and leaned towards her fluttering eyelashes with a clear intent to kiss them. The wizard's eager lips twitched slightly in anticipation, and Hermione's eyes widened in realization of what was about to happen. The young witch drew a shuddered breath, parting her plump, rosy lips just enough for the pearls of her glistening teeth to be exposed. The sight of this new and even more tempting target forced Sirius to change his direction at the last moment, and a second later, with a low, husky groan, his skilful lips covered Hermione's, with his dexterous tongue immediately darting to explore the smoothness of those pearls.

The kiss was long, intense and breathtaking. At some point, with satisfaction, Sirius noticed that the witch's fingers had found their way into his long locks, and her pliant, delicious curves were pressed flush against him. Needing a breath, the wizard moved to Hermione's top lip, tracing its chiselled contour with light, wet touches of his tongue. The next stop was Hermione's small, freckled nose. Then, with deft precision, he pressed light kisses to the delicate eyelids. The fluttering of her eyelashes was tickling Sirius lips, making him smile.

As reality slowly began to dawn back for the young witch in his arms, Sirius felt how she first stiffened in his embrace, and then after a moment, hurriedly removed her hand from his hair, and stepped back from him. In her rush to put as much distance between them as possible, Hermione forgot that her right hand was still covered with Sirius' and tightly pressed to his still, rather bare chest. The young witch tugged, but the wizard didn't let go. Their eyes met again, just as before the kiss – Hermione's wide opened and cautious, Sirius' dark and intense.

Our young lioness bit her slightly swollen lower lip and breathed out softly as bright pink blush once again crept over her cheeks, "I take it you feel better now. It worked then. Good. I am sorry, Sirius, for all this mess. I bet you are in a hurry. It is Friday night, after all, and you most definitely have plans. Thank Merlin, we were able to fix this..." at that, the girl stammered a little, "this problem. I would hate to think that I ruined your Friday night." A small, wistful smile appeared on the witch's face. All the while she was talking; she stubbornly tried to free her hand from under Sirius' unwavering palm.

"Hermione," murmured the wizard huskily, taking the witch's little hand in both of his and keeping it there like a tiny bird cocooned between his hot palms. Carefully, with his gaze firmly locked on the witch, he brought her hand to his lips and said, his words vibrating over her heated skin. "I am not in a hurry, princess. And I do not have any plans. May I take you somewhere, Hermione? Dinner, perhaps?" At this, his lips finally touched her hand. He wasn't even kissing it. He was just slowly smoothing his lips over the skin of her wrist, knuckles, delicate fingers, palm, opening his mouth slightly and burning her skin with his hot breath.

The weak tremor of the girl's fingers and a hitch in Hermione's breathe indicated the exact reaction for which the wizard was decidedly aiming. Encouraged by her responsiveness, Sirius continued caressing her arm with his mouth, slowly venturing higher and higher, reaching for the witch's elbow and luring her closer to him again.

Blinded by his early success, and already imagining the wonderful continuation of this evening in the witch's bedroom, Sirius didn't notice the change in Hermione's breathing and demeanour. Thus, it was a complete surprise for him, when Hermione, in one determined tug, finally freed her hand from its prison, simultaneously completely destroying the sensual and magical atmosphere between them. "Hermione," groaned Sirius, his hands already feeling bereft without her little palm between them.

Alas, the little witch didn't listen to him again. Frantically looking around the room for Sirius' shirt, and rather furiously blushing, Hermione whispered, "It's all right, Sirius, really. You don't have to worry about me; I am fine, truly. There is no need for pity here. Honestly, you know me, a book, a cup of tea, and I am all-good again." By the end of this phrase, the witch already found Sirius' shirt and was insistently placing it into his hands.

The wizard growled, displeased that the witch, with her customary tendency to over think and overanalyze, had ruined his carefully created scheme of seduction. _Damn, everything was going so well,_ swore Sirius in his mind. He knew, of course, that it would not be easy to tame the young lioness. Heck, he didn't want it to be easy, he was grateful enough for this to happen at all. Hermione Granger's heart was a fine prize, and he was more than willing to walk an extra mile for it.

He started again, "Hermione, you are not listening to me. Look at me, princess. It is not about pity. How on earth you came up with this idea? I admire you. You know that, right? I've been waiting four years to finally have a chance to worship you, princess. Please, Hermione, look at me."

Unfortunately for our sweet talking lover boy, Hermione was determined not to look at him, perhaps knowing, that once he caught her in his enthralling, grey gaze, she would be done for. Therefore, the young witch, fastidiously avoiding his eyes and furiously biting her lips, opened the flat's door and quietly uttered, "Sirius, please, do not make it even harder for me than it already is. All right. Since you insist, we will have lunch together next week. Thank you for everything."

With a heavy sigh of utter defeat, Sirius put on his shirt, and not bothering to even buttoning it, walked out of Hermione's apartment, giving her a quick peck on a cheek on his way out. He had barely managed to exclaim, "I'll owl you," before the door was slammed shut right behind him. Sirius took a deep, long breath and leaned on that blasted door, which had just blocked all his marvellous plans.

His heart was beating wildly. Aroused, disappointed, unsatisfied, he was not ready to give up just yet. He could feel, see and smell the witch's desire for him. Sirius was convinced that Hermione was leaning against the door at this moment. He could hear her laborious breathing behind it. _If only I could make it back to her flat, _thought the wizard. _I would not let her overanalyze. I will coax her with my passion and desire, and everything would be fabulous_.

Engrossed entirely in these thoughts, Sirius unconsciously put his hands in his pockets. To his amazement, his fingers found something soft and silky to the touch in there. He carefully took it from the pocket, looked at it, and suddenly laughed aloud. In his hand was the red lacy bra that had been the reason he had come to Hermione's flat in the first place. Oh, yes, the wicked witch Fate was still on his side.

_Aye, ma'am_, grinned Sirius. His toothy, smug smile made a miraculous comeback, and his face was once again irresistible. Armed with the red bra and a renewed hope, Sirius knocked on the door. It opened almost instantly, but not fully, making only a narrow crevice. The wizard could hear a heavy sigh and Hermione's voice, "Sirius, please." Not wasting even a minute, Sirius silently snaked his arm with the silky garment dangling on it through the opening. There was an 'oh', a peculiar huff, and then the door opened fully.

"Where did you find it, Sirius?" Hermione looked thoroughly confused. Using the witch's momentary confusion to his advantage, Sirius quickly stepped inside the flat, closed the door, and with light, bouncy, predatory steps advanced towards the witch, forcing her to walk backwards.

"This little treasure flew from you window right into my arms by itself, Hermione. You let it roam free during your skirmish with Ron, and I was going to return it to you. I would say it was a destiny, don't you think, princess?" Already with her back pressed to the wall, Hermione attempted to snatch her bra from Sirius' hands. The wizard, however, refused to let her have it, saying in his husky, seductive baritone, "Oh, no, princess, I suffered for this little, naughty thing quite greatly. I think you owe me a kiss for that. Come on, just a little, tiny kiss, princess." With that, he covered the last foot between them and pressed into her – his legs between her thighs, his hands all over her and his lips on hers.

This time there was no escape for Hermione. Sirius didn't give her any opportunity to think, to analyze, or to breathe for this matter. The red lacy red bra was forgotten carelessly on the floor, as well as the itching and Ron Weasley. It was decided, by fate and the wizard – that this night was the night for Hermione Granger to find out firsthand exactly how truthful were rumours about Sirius Black – the lover.

His lips and his hands were working in unison, caressing, learning, giving and taking. By the time the lovers left the warm spot by the wall, Sirius didn't leave a stitch of clothing on his witch and every inch of her body was thoroughly kissed, licked and fondled by him.

Oh, how joyful he felt. She was his. The witch he wanted was in his arms, his for the taking. He sensuously explored all of her – her luscious curls, thin ankles, pert, heart shaped bottom, peach coloured skin and especially those magnificent, perfect breasts with their dusty rose peaks. Every fibre of his being was aroused to the highest level, along with every organ. Oh, how many times he made her moan his name during this night, first, by using his fingers, then, by using his tongue, and only then by his – famous, glorious – self. Sirius Black used every ounce of his knowledge and experience to insure that after that night, his witch, his little lioness, his Hermione will never look elsewhere for love. Nope, she was his and his alone. And if he would need to read a few hundred books to keep her interested, then he would do just that.

When, a long while later, he held the sleeping curly-haired witch in his arms, Sirius once again gave a salute to a naughty, wicked witch named Fate for liking him. _Woof._

**_And this concludes the first story from the "Older Men" series. I have ideas for Lucius, Remus, Severus and Xeno Lovegood. It is your call, my darlings. Who do you want to see featured next?_**


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